


lines (and how to cross them)

by nightswatch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 21:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: Jeff adopts a dog during the off-season and Kent is less than delighted.





	lines (and how to cross them)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ronanlynchisneversleepingagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain/gifts).



**[Swoopsie]**

_okay so this wasn’t supposed to happen but…. I might have just adopted a puppy??_

 

Kent stares down at the text in disbelief. 

He stares and stares, can’t wrap his head around it, and eventually just hits _call_. 

Jeff answers after two rings. “I figured you’d have an opinion to share,” he says. No _hello_. No _how’s it going_. No _hey, Parse, how nice of you to call, I’m really sorry that it always takes me half a day to reply to your texts these days_.

Okay, Kent gets that it’s summer and everyone’s off doing their own thing. Jeff is in Canada with his family, posting pictures of lakes and hiking trails and bullshit like that every few days. Jeff doesn’t really get Instagram, though. Boy’s never even heard of a hashtag. Kent has been trying to educate him, but so far there’s definitely no improvement. 

“Hi, Jeff, I’m good, thanks for asking. How are you?” Kent says. 

He can practically _hear_ Jeff roll his eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” Jeff says, “let’s just go straight to you being weird about me getting a dog.”

“Yeah, okay, why would you get a _dog_?”

“Do you actually wanna know or do you just wanna judge me?”

Kent sighs. “Fine. Tell me.”

He does want to know how this happened. More specifically, he wants to know what the fuck Jeff was thinking. 

Kent isn’t sure why this feels so much like a betrayal. 

It’s probably because he’s having a summer that will easily enter the Top 5 of Worst Summers in Kent Parson’s Bitch of a Life and he’s having a hard time liking or being enthusiastic about anything right now. After Zimms basically flipped off the entire league and the world in general, and Kent spent several days panicking and feeling like his whole life was about to fall apart, it Kent needed some time to get his shit together. 

Jeff stayed with him for a little while and eventually Kent stopped panicking. He went on vacation with some of the guys, he went to New York to visit his mom, he hung out with his sister, and then he went straight back to Vegas, because he can only spend so much time in his childhood home without completely losing it. 

He still feels like everything’s about to fall apart, but he’s used to the feeling now. He just carries it around with him and waits. And while he waits he might as well find out why Jeff Troy would do him like this. 

“So,” Jeff says, “remember when I sent you that picture of all the puppies?”

“Yeah,” Kent says. He remembers. It was a photo of Jeff, sitting in his neighbor’s backyard, surrounded by half a dozen chocolate labs. He talked Jeff into putting it on Instagram to provide some contrast to all the lakes and hiking trails. “It’s one of those?”

“Yep. So most of them got picked up this weekend and then I talked to my neighbor last night and apparently there was some sort of mix up, and long story short, Brownie is mine now.”

“Oh my fucking god, you named your chocolate lab _Brownie_?”

“You have a cat called _Kit_.”

“Okay, but dogs _suck_.”

“Why?”

“Because they aren’t cats,” Kent says, because that makes perfect sense. Everyone knows that cats are highly superior.

“Yeah, but cats are actual demons, so I don’t really understand what you’re getting at.”

Kent gasps. “Are you calling my baby a demon?”

“I guess I am,” Jeff says. “Stop talking shit about my dog, you haven’t even met him.”

And Kent really doesn’t want to. “He can’t come to my house.”

“It’s okay, Parse, he also doesn’t want to come to your birthday party,” Jeff says, “so it’s all good.”

Kent huffs. “Well… congrats on being a dad, I hope you’re ready for kids.”

“I’m really not, but my parents have had several dogs, so I think they can help me out,” Jeff says. He’s only been up there for about three weeks, but he already sounds a hundred percent more Canadian.

“Cool,” Kent only says. 

“You’re being an ass.”

“Yeah, I am. Seriously, a dog?”

“He’s cute,” Jeff says. “You’ll love him.”

“No, I won’t.”

Jeff laughs and then tries to hide it behind a fake cough. “Whatever. How’s your summer going? You back in Vegas?”

“Yeah, I’ve been back for a couple of days,” Kent says. “I’m helping out at the Aces’ hockey thing next week. The Learn How To Skate one. I promised, so…” 

It’s the first time he’ll have to face the media ever since his exit interview after they lost Round 1. 

He’s spending this summer in hiding, hoping no one will ask him any questions about Zimms, or what he did, or what Kent’s thoughts are, what his connection to Zimms is, if he has anything to say. He said nothing. He retweeted some people who said some nice things, including Jeff who clearly felt more daring than Kent will ever be. Maybe he’ll arrive at a point where he won’t be able to hide anymore, and maybe he’ll arrive at that point sooner rather than later, but for now it’s just him and that sense of impending doom. 

Kent thought he was past the point where the quality of his summer was mostly determined by his relationship with Jack Zimmermann, but that clearly isn’t the case. He sent a text to Zimms that night.

_could have at least warned me_

About a dozen others he wrote but never sent, some more vicious than others, because Jack had to understand, didn’t he? The position he put Kent in? It won’t stop with this. Zimms has to know that. Jeff eventually took his phone away and put it on the table and it stayed there until the morning.

Jeff hugged him then and they fell asleep on the couch together and they didn’t say another word about it. Jeff needed someone that night, too. 

Kent knows that Jeff is gay; he has known for a long, long time. Years. It’s been actual years. Kent never mustered the courage to tell Jeff the truth in return, at least not by saying actual words, but that doesn’t mean Jeff doesn’t know. 

They never talked about it; they just quietly sat in the same boat, with a line between them that they never dared to cross. There were moments when Kent thought Jeff might want to, and there were moments when he thought he wanted to, but the line’s still there, after all these years, intact, uncrossed. 

Jeff isn’t the only one who knows. Scrappy knows, too. Kent never told him either. With Scrappy he came pretty close to actually saying it out loud, but in the end he didn’t need to. 

“You’ll be fine,” Jeff says. 

“What if they ask me…” Kent sighs. “You know… about Jack.”

“Then tell them you’re not there to discuss Jack Zimmermann’s private life.”

“I feel like everything I might end up saying could be misinterpreted or twisted or… What if…” He shakes his head, even though Jeff can’t see him. “Whatever.”

“You don’t have to tell them anything,” Jeff says, his voice quiet.

“I know,” Kent snaps.

Jeff slowly lets out a breath on the other end of the line. It was probably a reminder for him, too. Their secrets can remain secrets for however long they want them to.

“I’m just not… I don’t want to be…” Kent huffs. He just can’t find the right words. “I can’t…”

“Yeah,” Jeff says. Something about his voice is very gentle and for some reason that makes Kent even angrier.

“Anyway, I gotta go,” Kent says. “Don’t even think about sending me cute dog pics.”

“I won’t,” Jeff says.

Kent gets the first one – a sleepy chocolate lab puppy in Jeff’s arms – about ten seconds later. Once he’s put down his phone, Kit comes traipsing across the living room, hops on the couch, and makes herself comfortable in his lap. 

“Hey, princess,” Kent says to her, “no one will ever be cuter than you.”

*

“Don’t even expect me to coo at the dog,” Kent said on the phone when Jeff called him to tell him that he’s back in town and to ask if Kent wants to hang out.

And, sure, Kent does want to hang out, because, he missed Jeff Troy and his dad jokes and his dumb grin that somehow always manages to make Kent feel better, but Jeff has that puppy now and he’s insisting that that his place is the only option tonight. So Kent scratches Kit’s head and says goodbye to her for longer than strictly necessary, because he’ll be back either later tonight or tomorrow morning. 

Jeff’s place is a five-minute drive from Kent’s house. It’s a size smaller than Kent’s and it has a gigantic cactus right next to the front door. The cactus is wearing a pair of neon orange sunglasses.

As Kent walks up to the door, he can already hear the dog barking. 

And so far he’s only seen the dog in pictures and videos, but Kent doesn’t like him. It’s nothing personal. He just doesn’t like dogs in general. They’re just big and fluffy and always happy and, honestly, Kent can’t relate.

When Jeff opens the door, Kent almost expects to be attacked by an overexcited puppy, but it’s just Jeff, wearing an Aces shirt from three seasons ago, his smile soft. 

“Hey,” he says and ushers Kent inside.

Kent puts down the sixpack of beer he brought and kicks off his shoes. He sighs and says, “Yeah. Hey. How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Jeff says and reaches out to give Kent’s shoulder a squeeze. “You okay?”

“No,” Kent mutters and goes in for a hug, because he hasn’t seen Jeff in ages and he missed him and because he just really, really needs one. Scrappy’s been back in the city for two weeks, but Scrappy isn’t the kind of guy Kent would go to for cuddles. Now, Jeff… he doesn’t actually seem like the cuddliest of people at first glance, but appearances can be deceiving. 

Jeff holds on for a long moment before he lets go. Kent wasn’t really done hugging him yet, but there’s that line still. Hugging your bro for half an hour just isn’t a thing you do, so Kent lets Jeff nudge him towards the living room. The door’s closed and Kent assumes that it’s closed for a reason. 

“Okay, so he gets really excited, but he’s super sweet, I promise,” Jeff says.

Kent groans. They might as well get it over with. 

The puppy is upon them about half a second after they walk into the living room, tiny tail wagging like his life depends on it, yapping and bumping against Kent’s leg.

Jeff bends down to pat his head. “Brownie, this is Parse. He hates you right now, so you have to be extra nice to him.”

“Okay, listen…” Kent says, looking down at Brownie, who is, admittedly sort of adorable. He was adorable in the pictures Jeff sent him, too, but he’s still a dog. “I don’t literally hate him, I just don’t get what’s so great about dogs.”

Jeff rolls his eyes and picks up a stuffed monkey. “He loves this thing,” Jeff tells Kent. “I got two, because he’s totally gonna murder this one.”

“Oh, great, so the dog is murderous,” Kent mutters.

“Yeah,” Jeff says. “You wanna order pizza?”

“Sure,” Kent says with a shrug and flops down on the couch. 

Jeff heads out the door, probably to the get the beer and his phone, because Jeff is one of those people who leave their phone somewhere and then forget that they own one and take forever to reply to texts and then you have to call them so they’ll remember that they have that phone. Kent is left to watch Brownie nudge around his monkey without real enthusiasm.

He quickly ditches the monkey and comes over to Kent, sniffing his hand, then nudging it, definitely asking for pets. “Ugh,” Kent says and tentatively scratches him behind the ears. “There.”

Clearly that one pat wasn’t adequate, so Brownie keeps badgering him, wagging his entire butt, like Kent is the best dude in the world. And he’s got those puppy eyes. Sure, he _is_ a puppy, even though he’s already a lot bigger than a couple of weeks ago when Jeff first got him. 

“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” Kent mumbles, but gives Brownie another pat, because otherwise he’ll never stop.

“Aw, look at you guys, already getting along,” Jeff says as he walks back into the living room. He hands Kent a beer and sits down next to him. “You have to admit, he’s–”

“Nah, still not a dog person,” Kent interrupts and leans back. Jeff can pet this little bugger now; Kent doesn’t want anything to do with that. 

Jeff lets Brownie hop up onto the coach and Brownie curls up in his lap. It’s easy to see how much Jeff already loves that dog, and maybe Kent should just be happy about that, but still. The _betrayal_.

Jeff’s Instagram has pretty much only been pictures of the puppy for the last couple of weeks and their teammates are completely losing it, asking Jeff to bring him to the rink once the season starts, and it’s starting to get annoying. And Kent knows he shouldn’t be annoyed by it, because he’s the King of Cat Pics, but somehow he can’t help himself.

“See, he’s a good boy,” Jeff says when Brownie has fallen asleep with his head on Jeff’s thigh.

Kent only huffs. Still not as adorable as Kit. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Kent can see Jeff smile. 

*

“Hey,” Jeff says as he’s trying to catch up with Kent in the hallway. “Wait up.”

Kent was just about to head home from the rink. They’re rapidly approaching the preseason and Kent still doesn’t feel as prepared as he’d like. It has very little to do with his speed or his strength or anything that could be fixed, though. 

It’s more the fear of questions he can’t answer when faced with the media. He already had one question about Zimms today and he said what Jeff told him to say all those weeks ago – “I’m not here to discuss Jack Zimmermann’s private life.”

Jeff hasn’t been quite as evasive, although when asked about Jack, he made sure to keep his answers as vague as possible, never mentioning any names, just saying that he hopes the Aces as a team can be supportive and that the league will make an effort to be inclusive and welcoming. 

Kent doesn’t know if Jeff is thinking about coming out at some point. He’s too afraid to ask. 

“Hey,” Kent says and stops to wait for Jeff. 

Jeff tilts his head as he looks down at Kent. “You okay?”

Kent shrugs, because, truth be told, he isn’t sure how he’s feeling and right now he just wants to go home and take a nap. 

“You wanna hang out later?” Jeff asks. 

“My place,” Kent says, because once he’s home today, he’s not leaving again. He’s gonna order a bunch of food, park his ass on his couch, put on a movie, and snuggle with Kit. “The dog can’t come.”

“You know, he’s okay with cats,” Jeff says. 

“I don’t think Kit would like him.”

“Right… Well, I’ll see you later?”

“Let yourself in,” Kent says. 

Jeff does, a few hours later, with a bunch of Chinese food, and thankfully without the dog in tow. Kent is on the couch, as planned, bundled in a blanked, Kit curled up on top of him.

“It’s one of those days, huh?” Jeff asks, sits down, and immediately starts stuffing spring rolls into his mouth. 

Kent hums and Kit nudges his jaw with her nose.

“Is it because they asked you about Zimmermann?” Jeff asks. “You handled that pretty well.”

“It’s a fucking nightmare,” Kent mutters.

“Have some sweet-and-sour chicken,” Jeff says.

“Chicken isn’t gonna fix this. Nothing’s gonna fix this.” He scratches Kit’s ears. “I just wanna go back to last season. I want Zimms to fuckin’… think before he pulls shit like this.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“No, I’m pretty sure he changed his number,” Kent says gruffly. “His dad called me. Just to check in, he said. But I know he knows and I… Fuck, this is such a mess.”

Jeff doesn’t reply, but Kent can feel his eyes on him. 

“What?” Kent asks.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right.”

Jeff hums lowly, but he still doesn’t say anything. 

“ _What_?” Kent asks again. 

“It’s not really his fault. I mean, don’t tell me that you actually think he planned _that_.”

Kent rolls his eyes.

“And, let’s be real, it’s not about him.”

“What do you mean _it’s not about him_? Of course it is.”

“Why, because you’re still in love with him?”

“No,” Kent says and he sort of surprises himself with how much he means it. 

“Exactltly. It’s because of guys like Carl who just talk shit all day long. It’s because of the entire fucking league,” Jeff says. “Zimmermann’s not the problem and you know it.”

“Why are you… like that?”

“Capable of rational thought?” Jeff asks. 

“Ugh.”

Jeff has a point and Kent is well aware. He isn’t feeling lonely and isolated because Jack Zimmermann is out there kissing his boyfriend on national TV. That might have been the case a few years ago. Kent’s jealous of Jack. But it’s not because of the boyfriend. It’s not because he’s with someone that isn’t Kent.

It’s because Jack did what he did.

It’s because Jack has an entire team who has his back. An entire organization that supports him.

What does Kent have? He has Swoops and Scrappy. That’s the grand total of people that are on his side. He sighs and hugs Kit closer. 

“We’ll be okay,” Jeff says and reaches over to ruffle Kent’s hair.

Kent sighs again and leans against Jeff. Is he crossing the line right now? It seems like he is. It shouldn’t, because it’s not like this has never happened before, but it somehow doesn’t feel the same. But does he care? Nope. Not even a little bit. 

“Hey,” Jeff whispers and holds up a spring roll. “Eat some food.”

“No,” Kent says, because he’s not done being a grumpy couch monster.

“You wanna see a cute picture of Brownie?”

Kent tries to sound as unenthusiastic as possible when he says, “Fine.”

Jeff fumbles with his box of Chinese food as he tries to get his phone without putting it down. It eventually ends up wedged between him and Kent and Kit sniffs it with something that might be interest. She quickly decides that she doesn’t care for spring rolls, though.

“Here,” Jeff says and unlocks his phone. His password is 1414, because he’s a dweeb. He pulls up his pictures and shows Kent one of Brownie sleeping in a patch of sunlight. “He’s cute, admit it.”

“No,” Kent says.

Jeff swipes for the next picture. Brownie looking up at the camera with the biggest puppy eyes ever. “He’s cute,” Jeff says.

“No.”

Next picture. “My sister sent me that one the other day.” It’s Jeff, asleep on a couch that Kent doesn’t recognize, and Brownie, still tiny, also fast asleep, on Jeff’s chest. “That was the day after I got him.”

“This definitely isn’t cute,” Kent says. 

It kinda is.

Jeff laughs. 

Kent feels a little better now. 

*

“Oh my god, look at him…”

“The best boy.”

“Hey, come here, Brownie… Over here. I have food. I promise I totally have food.”

“Don’t give him food,” Jeff says just when Kent turns the corner.

Half the team is gathered in the hallway, together with an assistant coach, their equipment guy, and a bunch of social media people, taking videos and snapping pictures. It appears that Jeff has brought Brownie to the rink and everyone’s losing their shit over it.

“Come over here, we’re buddies already,” Sunny says, and Brownie obediently walks over to him to lick his hand. 

“Hey, Parser,” Bennie shouts, pointing at Brownie, “Jeff brought his son.”

“Yeah,” Kent says and tries to squeeze past all of them to get to the locker room so he can get ready for practice. 

Kent gives Brownie a pat in passing, because their Twitter guy is still snapping pictures and Kent doesn’t want it to seem like he isn’t having a good time with his team or whatever. 

The guys love Brownie.

Kent knew that. He follows Jeff on Instagram – which is basically just Brownie’s Instagram now – and he’s seen the comments. He’s also seen the pictures of Brownie and Bennie’s two dogs, and he’s seen the picture of Sunny lying on Jeff’s living room floor with Brownie. 

When Brownie eventually comes darting into the locker room, he immediately runs over to Kent for some reason. Sure, Kent was over at Jeff’s house the other day, and maybe he threw a toy for Brownie so he’d stop nudging his hand, and maybe he also patted his head a little to make Jeff happy, and maybe he also held out his hand so Brownie could give him his paw, because Jeff wanted to show him, but that’s it. 

The locker room is the wrong place to say something like, “We’re not friends,” to a dog that’s supposedly adorable, and Sunny is cooing and their Twitter guy still has his phone out, so Kent says hello to Brownie and then ushers him over to Sunny, because he’s clearly just waiting to give Brownie a bellyrub. 

Jeff sits down and starts putting on his equipment while Brownie makes his way around the locker room. 

Bennie puts an Aces hat on Brownie and snaps a picture. Kent will be seeing those pictures on Instagram and Twitter for days. He doesn’t mind that Jeff is gaining followers because of Brownie, he’s happy for him, but the dog is still just a dog. Honestly. Jeff has had him for ages. Brownie is not even super tiny anymore. 

“Please don’t bring Kit to the rink just to prove that she’s cuter and that people love her more than my dog,” Jeff says as he ties his skates.

Kent huffs. He can’t pretend that the thought hasn’t entered his mind, but bringing Kit to the rink is really not an option. She’d hate him for taking her somewhere in the car and as soon as they got here, she’d hide in an equipment bag and try to stay there forever. 

“I won’t,” Kent says. 

When he gets home, he spreads out his Aces blanket in a patch of sunlight, knowing that Kit won’t be able to resist and takes a picture as soon as she’s fallen asleep on it, right next to the Aces logo.

Sunny replies to the picture right after Kent posts it – _omg kit and brownie need to meet….. actually they shouldn’t it’d be too adorable_.

Well. That’s not gonna be a problem, because they won’t meet. Ever. 

*

“Okay, so, I need you to do me a favor,” Jeff says when Kent answers the phone, because saying hello is, as it has always been, a foreign concept to Jeff.

“Sure, what’s up?” Kent asks. 

“The power’s out, because… actually, I have no idea why, but they were digging a whole at the end of the street yesterday and I assume it has something to do to with that,” Jeff says. “Can I come hang out at your place?”

“Yeah, don’t want you to spend your day off not being able to watch movies.”

“Exactly…” Jeff is quiet for a long moment, then he says, “Uh, Parse?”

“What?”

“Can I bring Brownie?” Jeff asks. “I don’t wanna leave him here all day. Like, he can just be in a room on his own and I’ll bring a few of his toys or something, he’ll be fine, our we can put him outside for a bit. Please?”

Kent glances at Kit, who’s dozing at the end of his bed. Yeah. Kent’s still in bed. It’s his day off. They don’t get a lot of these. “I guess that’s okay.” He does have a pretty big backyard.

“Thanks, Parse.”

“Yeah, see you in a bit.”

Jeff comes over about an hour later, carrying a huge bag full of toys and dog food.

“Kit’s upstairs in my bedroom,” Kent says when he lets Jeff and Brownie in. Brownie, still on his leash, immediately starts sniffing Kent’s shoes. “Do not eat my shoes.”

“He won’t,” Jeff says. “Where do you wanna put him?”

Kent looks around, like a sign will appear to point to the room that he’d most like to have ruined by a puppy that’s obviously on a quest to sniff his entire house. There’s not a single room in his house that’s dog-proof. “Let’s put him… in one of the guest rooms maybe?”

“Okay.” Jeff holds up his bag. “I brought his favourite toys, so he’s not gonna eat any of your stuff. Brownie, sit…”

Brownie sits down immediately, now wiping the floor with his tail.

“Good boy,” Jeff says and takes off the leash.

Kent almost expects Brownie to run off and trash his entire house, but he obediently follows them upstairs, into one of Kent’s guest rooms. It’s the smallest one that no one ever actually stays in. There’s a bed, a dresser and a few empty boxes. That’s it. 

Jeff dumps a few toys on the floor, including Brownie’s favorite monkey. Brownie nudges it and lies down on top of it, carefully gnawing on the tail. 

“Okay,” Jeff says and kneels down next to Brownie, “you’re gonna stay up here and you’ll be a good boy, right?”

Brownie wags his tail in response.

“I know you will be.”

Keff snorts.

“Stop laughing at me,” Jeff says and stands up. “I’ve heard you talk to Kit, you have nothing to laugh about here.”

Kent lets Kit out of his bedroom and she goes downstairs with them, looking around, definitely suspicious. She curls up on her cat tree and watches them as they put on a movie, order pizza for lunch, and do absolutely nothing productive. 

The season’s barely even started, but Kent really needs this day off. They just got home from an only moderately successful road trip. No one’s asked him any questions about Jack Zimmermann since the start of the season and Kent has a feeling that their PR team made sure the media would focus on hockey-related questions in the locker room. Kent’s not sure if that is a good thing or if it’ll just convince the media that he’s really hiding something. 

Jeff insists on checking on Brownie after the first movie and Kent follows him upstairs. They find Brownie in one of the empty boxes, now toppled over, fast asleep with his monkey next to him. 

Okay. Kent is not finding that adorable. Not even a little bit. 

“See,” Jeff whispers, “he didn’t eat everything in here.”

“You mean he hasn’t eaten everything _yet_ ,” Kent says.

Brownie’s nose twitches and he paws at it. 

That’s not cute either. 

“He’s–” Kent groans when Kit darts into the room. “Princess, no, don’t… do that.”

It’s too late. Kit’s already inspecting Brownie, who jerks awake when Kit boops his nose. 

Kent’s about to go and pick her up, but Jeff grabs him by the arm. “Just… let her say hi.”

“And let her get murdered?”

“Stop being mean to my dog,” Jeff says and elbows him in the ribs. “He’s met other animals and he was really friendly. Like, I took him to Mikey’s place and Mikey’s kid has a turtle and Brownie didn’t eat it. Look.”

Brownie starts sniffing Kit and Kit takes a few quick steps back. He follows her, tail still wagging – are dogs ever _not_ happy – and gives her a nudge. Brownie circles around Kit and she looks like she’s about to scratch his eyes out, then he plops down, waiting for Kit to approach.

“See,” Jeff says and sits down on the bed, “they like each other.”

“No, they don’t,” Kent says.

Kit is chasing Brownie around the box and it doesn’t look like they’re having a bad time, but Kent still isn’t convinced.

“They’re playing.”

Kent rolls his eyes and sits down next to Jeff. 

Okay, maybe they are playing. Maybe they’re getting along. 

Kent folds his arms across his chest and watches them. He doesn’t have to look at Jeff to know that he has the broadest grin on his face right now. 

“Do not even think about being smug about this,” Kent grumbles. 

“I’m not being smug,” Jeff says. He sounds _so_ smug.

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

Jeff really does shut up after that and they watch Brownie and Kit play until Brownie eventually gets tired and falls over. The funny thing is that it almost seems intentional how he drops on his side. Kent snorts.

“I heard that,” Jeff whispers. 

“Shush.”

“Just admit it. He’s cute. He’s a cute dog. Dogs are cute sometimes. Even Kit likes him.”

Kit’s busy climbing all over Brownie and eventually cuddles up to him, her head on his back. 

“I cannot believe she’d betray me like this,” Kent says. 

Jeff puts an arm around him. “Sorry, man.”

“Your sympathy is _fake_.”

Jeff laughs. “Come on.” He gives Kent’s shoulder a squeeze. “What’s your problem? Like, really, I know dogs aren’t your favorite, but you’re acting like Brownie murdered your entire family.”

“Yeah, whatever, he’s a good boy, blah blah,” Kent says.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

The truth is… The truth is that whatever the truth is – and he’s really not sure what it is – Kent wouldn’t be able to tell Jeff. Because deep down he understands that he’d be crossing the line. He’d cross the line like it’s never been crossed before. 

So Kent shrugs and says, “What if I am?”

“Fine,” Jeff says. “Avoid it.” His arm’s still wrapped around Kent. 

He shrugs Jeff off and flops back onto the bed. “Ugh, I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Here?”

“It’s whatever,” Kent says. He smiles when Jeff lies down next to him.

The line? Still there. Still uncrossed.

For now. 

*

“Honestly, just… what the fuck. Like, are they blind? It was clearly a good goal. _Clearly_.”

“Parse…”

“No, it’s _bullshit_.”

“I know that it’s bullshit, everyone knows that it’s bullshit, but that was the call and that’s it.”

Kent lets out a frustrated groan. They’ve had three overtime losses in the last five games and today shouldn’t have been one of them. Jeff scored about a minute before the end of regulation and the goal got waved off for interference, but it was a good goal. Kent has seen the video. It should have counted. They shouldn’t have gone into overtime.

“Take a deep breath,” Jeff says. 

Kent has no idea why Jeff isn’t mad as shit about this. Like, okay, Jeff isn’t the kind of guy who gets angry quickly. Even when he gets into fights, he’s one of those guys who only drops his gloves if he has a very good reason to.

Kent huffs and leans back. It’s a good thing that Jeff’s driving him home, because an OT game and a bullshit call are a good recipe for a speeding ticket. 

“Wanna crash at my place?” Jeff asks, which basically translates as, _Wanna come to my place and eat the leftovers in my fridge and drink some beer and watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?_

“Yeah,” Kent says. Part of him wants to ask Jeff to just drive him home so he can cuddle Kit, but being around a human might not be the worst thing for him right now.

They’re greeted by Brownie when they get to Jeff’s place and Jeff kneels down to pet him while Kent goes straight to the kitchen to get two bottles of beer and to have a look at what’s in Jeff’s fridge. He pulls out a bunch of takeout containers and a ziplock bag with what looks like actual homemade pizza. He doesn’t bother heating any of it up and takes it all to the living room. 

Jeff is already there with Brownie, who seems to be particularly interested in all the food Kent is carrying. 

“Don’t give him anything,” Jeff says. 

Kent really wasn’t going to. 

After eating all of Jeff’s pizza, Kent still doesn’t really feel much better, so he grabs a pillow to hug and a sulks. 

A moment later, Brownie drops a bright green chew toy in Kent’s lap. There’s spit all over it. “Uh… thanks,” Kent says.

Next to him, Jeff laughs. “Aw, he loves you.” He nods at the toy, and says, “He murdered the second monkey last week, so this one’s his favorite now. Anyway, he’s smart, he can tell that you’re in a bad mood, he’s just trying to cheer you up.”

Kent sighs and Brownie somehow sees that as an invitation for cuddles. He jumps up onto the couch and lies down with his head in Kent’s lap, a paw on his knee. 

“Why do you even let him jump on the couch?” Kent asks. 

“Your cat sleeps in your bed,” Jeff replies. 

“Yeah, but she’s my princess.”

Jeff apparently isn’t the mood to keep arguing so he only keeps laughing at Kent and reaches over to scratch Brownie behind the ears. 

“You know, I can always take him to his crate if he’s bugging you,” Jeff says after a moment. 

Kent looks down at Brownie, who’s decided that falling asleep right on top of Kent is a fantastic idea. And, yeah, Kent can be an asshole. He knows that. But he’d never willingly wake up this dog unless it was an emergency. “Nah, he’s fine,” Kent says lowly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” Jeff says, unbearably smug again. 

“Shh, your son is sleeping.”

Kent can see that Jeff’s looking at him, but he can’t bring himself to look back at him right now. He doesn’t want to see the smile on Jeff’s face, because every time Jeff smiles at him, Kent gets pulled into this weird happy place where everything is right in the world, and he doesn’t want to accidentally make Jeff think that he likes his dog or anything. 

Still not a dog person. 

And yet that doesn’t keep him from falling asleep on the couch with Brownie. And Jeff. It doesn’t happen too often that Jeff doesn’t make it to bed when Kent spends the night here. Usually Kent wakes up on Jeff’s massive couch on his own, but not this time. 

This time he wakes up when something wet nudges his hand. This time there’s something heavy on his chest. 

Kent groans and tries to shove whatever’s on his chest away. His hands finds something squishy that turns out to be Jeff’s cheek when Kent actually opens his eyes to assess the situation.

Apparently getting poked in the face isn’t enough to properly wake up Jeff, because he’s still right there, with his head on Kent’s chest.

Okay, Kent isn’t, like, _enjoying_ this. But it’s not horrible. It’s pretty much the opposite of horrible, actually. Jeff sniffs and sits up with a groan and Kent just sort of wishes that Jeff had stayed right there for maybe another minute or two and– That’s bad. No, not only is it bad, it’s absolutely catastrophic. 

Kent can’t be thinking stuff like that. 

Jeff sits up and his hair is flat on one side of his head and sticking up on the other one and Kent wastes several thoughts on thinking about what it’s like to wake up to that every morning, and that’s even worse than all the stuff he thought before. 

“I should get home,” Kent says. 

“Yeah, just give me a minute, I’ll feed Brownie and take him out and then I’ll drive you.”

“Nah…” Kent grabs his phone. “Uber.”

“I don’t mind–”

“Seriously, it’s fine,” Kent says. “Just take care of the little monster before he gets any ideas about eating me for breakfast.”

“Okay,” Jeff says. He gives Kent a weird look. 

Kent looks away, and that probably earns him a second weird look, but it’s not like he can see that one. 

*

The thing about not trying to think about Jeff is that it’s literally impossible.

Kent goes home, says hi to Kit, and then drives to the rink for practice and there’s Jeff again, grinning at him from across the locker room. He has lunch with a bunch of the guys and Jeff’s there too. They’ve always spent a lot of time together, but he’s only now starting to notice how much time. 

He tries to ignore it and pretend that he’s not having an ongoing existential crisis about this, but he even thinks about Jeff in the most mundane situations. He eats breakfast and remembers that breakfast is Jeff’s favourite meal of the day, he orders pizza and thinks about which toppings Jeff would get, he goes out shopping and comes across one of those dumb monkeys that Brownie apparently likes so much.

Kent buys the monkey. 

He buys the monkey, because he wants to see Jeff’s smug smile. He totally has ulterior motives, he’s aware, but he ignores it. He’s not supposed to have ulterior motives. 

They go on a roadie and they’re thankfully over the overtime losses. They go home with seven out of ten points and return to Vegas in late January after two weeks on the road. Two weeks in which Kent and Jeff barely spent a minute apart. Two weeks in which Kent fell asleep in Jeff’s bed, and Jeff fell asleep in Kent’s bed. Two weeks in which Kent came to realize that he is royally fucked. 

When he gets back home, the monkey is still where he left it, in his closet, where Kit can’t get to it. 

Kit darts out of the living room as soon as Kent unlocks the door, meowing at him until he drops his bags and picks her up to give her a hug. “I missed you,” Kent says. 

He takes her upstairs, sets her down on his bed, takes off his clothes and snuggles into bed. He reaches out and Kit comes up to him, purring softly. Kent grabs his phone and snaps a picture of himself and Kit curled against him. 

Kent sends it to Jeff – _she missed me :))_ – and receives a reply only a few minutes later. It’s a picture of Jeff, on his couch, cuddling with Brownie – _I guess he missed me too_. Jeff looks like he’s about to fall asleep, his smile lazy, and Kent kind of wants to be there and fall asleep with him. It’s not just because he’s here on his own and he’s feeling lonely. It’s because it’s Jeff.

“I’m screwed,” Kent whispers to Kit. “I can’t believe I’m this stupid.”

Kit purrs in reply, but she’s always purring, so maybe it’s not even a reply.

“He’s my teammate,” Kent mutters. “And he has a dog. That’s, like, the two worst things that could ever happen.”

Kit clearly doesn’t care about his dilemma. She’s happy as long as Kent doesn’t stop petting her.

“I know you like Brownie. And you like Jeff. But… this is horrible.”

Kent reaches over to his lamp and turns it off. Whatever. He doesn’t want to deal with this right now. 

*

Kent hides the monkey for a couple of weeks. 

Because he knows that giving Jeff the monkey will change things somehow. It feels like he’d be admitting something that he really doesn’t want to admit. Maybe not yet. Maybe not ever. 

But then Jeff has a bad game. And another bad game. And after the third bad game, Kent can’t keep withholding the monkey anymore, because he knows it’ll cheer Jeff up and what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t at least try to make him feel better. 

The day after the game, once he gets home from practice, Kent drops Jeff off at his place, goes home, grabs the monkey, and goes straight back to Jeff’s. 

When Jeff opens the door for him, he looks rumpled and bleary-eyed. Brownie, however, is clearly happy to see him, barking, his tail wagging, and Kent hasn’t even shown him the monkey yet. 

“What are you doing here?” Jeff asks, but lets him in and closes the door, so it’s not like he wants Kent to leave. 

“I know you’d never _say_ that it bugs you that you’ve had three games without points, but I know that it does,” Kent says, “so… here I am.”

“To…?”

“To give you this,” Kent says and hands over the bag with the monkey in it. It’s a grocery store bag, so it doesn’t look like much.

Jeff frowns at him, and then frowns down at the bag before he reaches in and pulls out the monkey, his eyes going wide. “Where’d you find it? I’ve been looking for one for ages.”

“I don’t know, Target or something,” Kent says with a shrug. “It was the last one they had.”

“Dude,” Jeff says, and, yep, there it is – big smile. “Brownie, look…” He holds up the monkey. “Look what Parser got for you.”

Brownie’s clearly excited and sits his butt down, like he knows that he won’t get the monkey if he isn’t the best boy ever. 

“Right, okay, you have to be careful with this one,” Jeff says and sets it down on the floor. Brownie goes right for it as soon as Jeff adds a _good boy_ and takes off with the monkey, probably to destroy it in peace. 

“For how long is it gonna survive? Two days? Three?” Kent asks.

“Maybe a week,” Jeff replies. “Or he’ll actually be careful with this one, who knows.” 

Kent laughs.

“Hey,” Jeff says, “thank you. Seriously. He, uh… you know that he loved those and you got one and that’s… really nice.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“No, it’s just…” Jeff shrugs. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, sure. I just saw it and grabbed it. No big deal.”

“But you hate my dog, so it kind of is,” Jeff says. “Just let me say thank you and stop pretending that it doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t _hate_ your dog, you know that,” Kent says. “I just…”

Jeff raises his eyebrows. 

“Dogs are just so dumb. Like… They’re… Whatever, maybe sometimes he’s cute.”

“Oh, really?” Jeff asks. 

“Shut it. _Sometimes_. Yery rarely. Maybe once a month.”

Jeff’s still smiling. Of course he is. And Kent doesn’t even stand a chance anymore. He has to smile back. 

And there it is. The thing he was afraid of. It’s not just him smiling at Jeff and Jeff smiling at him, it’s _a moment_. And Jeff isn’t stupid, he knows that it’s a moment, too. They both know and they’re standing here, in Jeff’s hallway, smiling at each other and Kent feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t kiss Jeff immediately. 

But that would be crossing the line. 

Quite frankly, if he kisses Jeff right now, there’s no way of going back. Once he’s over the line, he’s over the line, and that’s that. 

“Kent,” Jeff says. He bites his lip. He looks so soft and his smile is so gentle now and–

“Whatever,” Kent says and takes a step closer. Some lines are made specifically for crossing. 

Jeff is right there with him. He wraps his arms around Kent when Kent stands on his tiptoes to kiss him. It’s just one kiss at first, one quick kiss that’s over after a second. One kiss wouldn’t be so bad. But then Jeff kisses him and then it’s two. And then three. And then Kent stops counting.

He stops counting and he stops thinking and he stops wondering what’s going to happen. He already knows. He’ll keep kissing Jeff, today, and tomorrow, and as long as he’ll let him. 

“Fuck, okay,” Kent says when Jeff pulls away.

Jeff’s hands are still on his sides, and the smile’s still there, so maybe this really is okay. “Yeah,” Jeff only says. Whatever that means.

“Okay,” Kent says again and leans back in. 

“Okay,” Jeff echoes. He once again meets Kent halfway.

It’s been a long time since Kent kissed someone and actually enjoyed it. It’s been a long time since he last felt like this. 

They’re interrupted by something bumping against their legs. It’s Brownie, carrying the monkey’s tail in his mouth. He apparently left the rest of the monkey elsewhere. 

“Already?” Jeff asks. 

“He’s very talented, I guess,” Kent says.

“I know, right?”

“No, come on, you’re being smug again.”

“Yeah,” Jeff says and kisses the top of his head. “Yeah, I am.” 

Okay, maybe he has a good reason to be smug right now. 

“You like my dog,” Jeff says.

“No.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Kent rolls his eyes. Maybe the dog isn’t terrible. Maybe Kent can slowly get acquainted with the thought of liking a guy who owns a dog. 

He’s crossed the line already. He’s always been good at that. He’s in deep shit. 

That’s okay. 

Jeff takes him by the hand and pulls Kent towards the living room, Brownie chasing after them with his monkey’s tail. 

Really. One way or another, it’ll be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)
> 
> I'm @zimmermaenner on tumblr if you want to drop by!


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